The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-09-22
LIFE AMONG THE LOGS.
View OF "A sample Minnesota or Wisconsin
Lumber Camp.

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earth in the pineries until it is laid on
the Dakota prairies for building pur.
poses, moves in fixed course.
But it is not the log, but the log-cut-
ter and log-driver that form the rarest
objects of interest in numbering. A
giant pine, sobbing and signing be-
fore its ignominous tumble, is to be
looked at but not half as quickly nor so
long as the driver threading his way
over jam or guiding the drive down
to the booms. From Chippewa Falls
in Wisconsin, to Brainerd and Frozen
City in this state, the genus homo
known as log-drivers are very numer-
Gus. Living in camps of their own
most of the year, seeking the small
cities only in a short season Of rest,
Injured 10 every exposure, bronzed by
the weather, rendered indifferent by
the dangers they have incurred, they
become peculiarly distinguished from
other men. a log-driver on drunk
is not teamster or railroader drunk
by any means.
His home when IN service is under
tent or in log huts arranged in the
clearing adjacent TO his field of labor
Each camp has its own arrangements,
but as a rule in the northwest
permanent structures are now erected
for shelter At Wilson the company
owns all of the houses, the grocery and
supply stores, and rent the men their
homes and sell them their needed
supplies. AT Clear Lake there is a
much similar system, but both of these
towns lie in the heart of great forests.
Where long drives must be had, as
from the upper Brainerd country to
Minneapolis, or into Taylor's Falls or
down the Chippewa to Eau Claire, the
camp at the head of the work is a rude.
~ constructed concern, meant only for
shelter, not comfort. Your true lum.
bermen doesn't care. He desires more
that the calks in his boot-soles should
be sharp than his bed soft These
calks, half an inch long and in number
from ten to one hundred, give an
identity to the imprint of a lOgdriver's
foot that can not be mistaken. In
wandering promiscuouSly over ''head
and tall jam, he finds his cork
life preservers, now not at the waist,
but on the heels. The manner in which
a log in a jam can form flock and,
being the key to the combination, hold
in apparently inextricable confusion
thousands of other logs is one of the
mysteries of numbering. Twenty-Five
million feet of logs in one Jam at
Taylor's Falls and a baby attachment
a little further up the stream of five
million feet. 1t is a sight that people
go miles to see-this barricade OF
timber, built up on the surface of
great stream, defying man, and with
grinding, grooming, and many moan,
writhing in bounden rage against its
own work.
1t is a terrific sight-a mystery The
"breaking' of Jam, which means
simply its end, is an apparently hercu-
lean task, although accomplished by q
single man, who, if successful, dies in
his tracks, killed by the logs he has
freed, or escapes by only fearful race
against time across the stream to land
and safety. The chances these drivers
will take at such moments are incredi-
BILE if not witnessed. Their clumsy
hulls become the bodies of sprites,
who leap from floating log to log with
the touch of an antelope that spurns
without pressing. As the logs break
loose and the great mass begins to
move, the crunching and grinding
that ensues is like the ragings of
giant loosening his bonds. A log
driver needs less instruments of war,
perhaps, than any other soldier Of
labor. Give him pick-pOle, which is
nothing more nor less than a guide
staff, irOn-shod, and a cant-dog and he
is equipped, if exception is made of
the blasting-powder sometimes, in
emergencies. The cant-dog, or hook,
is useful under nearly all the circum-
stances of numbering. To pull, twist,
or turn it IS about as handy as anything
that can be imagined, and, in free
| fight, weapon to be feared The
| outdoor life of these lumbermen brings
to them strength Of limb phenomenal
outside of their class. Life in Morrison
| county forests, or on the St. Croix
| range, or the north Wisconsin, or the
upper Mississippi or the Otter Tail is
but getting as much fresh air, plain
food, and hard exercise as any man
need want. 1t is vigorous, exciting
life, with enough danger to keep the
eyes open. One can not trip lightly
over floating logs without long expert
ence. A ducking taken between the
logs is accompanied by other dangers
sufficiently hazardous. The sorting of
logs necessitates this delicate feat in
walking. To a log-roller cork shod il
is but SO much sport but an amateur
would find it the toughest Job he ever
| undertook. The principle of sorting"
Is only establishing ownership of the
logs after they have reached the end
of a drive, and confusing task as that
| may seem, 1t is generally not a difficult
one for experienced men to accom-
plish.
The numerous small towns scattered
along the rivers of the state at the
present time remove much of the
wildness from log drive. The men
have less hardships to bear and their
food is better. But in camp hard food
is the rule and fashion. Corn bread.
pork, potatoes, tea and coffee, sirups,
are all substantials for them. Clean
illness in the camp is hard to obtain,
though much desired by the bosses and
the men themselves. One or two
scourges of smallpox in some of the
| northern camps have brought about a
few sanitary changes. The men eat and
sleep in common and with delight hail
the opening breakup and any evidence
OF high water. Ii the snow is scarce
hauling bad, and the rivers We're low
in the fall, the grief of a genuine lum-
herman is affecting. He curses every
sandbar, prays for rain, and halls a
| cloud with shouts of Joy. Low water
in the up country rivers in the spring
means dull times, no logs moving, and
shut down of the mills. High water
has just an opposite meaning. The
drive once made up, the streams a.
| booming, and the men in trim, the
moving of the ponderous mass is
| the last task undertaken. Two,
three, four, and FIVE miles in length,
cc-ering the entire surface of river,
and moving with great deliberation,
the drive is an object of interesting
| study. Snatches of song float out on
| the air from the drivers, the scraping
of fiddle is heard, strange calls in the